Fix You
by only-because3
Summary: She is Brooke Penelope Davis, best friend to Peyton Elizabeth Sawyer no longer soon to be Scott . This is why she'll lie to the blonde and tell her it won't hurt much longer. Truth is though, Lucas Scott leaves you hurting for a long time. ONESHOT


For Shaz (and Corey). Thanks to Lynn for reading over. Hope y'all enjoy!

* * *

Brooke sits sleepily on the couch, half watching some stupid movie on the tv. She can hear Peyton crying from her room down the hall and she frowns herself. "She's been crying for a while," Sam mumbles next to her and she nods. She scoots closer to Sam and opens her mouth for a spoonful of Brownie Batter ice cream. "You should take Ben and Jerry to her." Brooke nods and she swallows her bite and tosses the blanket off of her. She walks over to the freezer and pulls out the cake batter ice cream.

"What is with us and batter," she wonders quietly as she grabs two spoons. She knocks on the half shut door before walking in. She turns on the light beside the bed, the dim light illuminating Peyton's wet face. "I brought the boys." She crawls in next to her best friend and pats her lap. Peyton moves closer and lays her head down where Brooke just motioned. She's staring at the green colored wall across from them and just keeps crying. Brooke puts the silver spoon in her hand and places the small carton of ice cream in front of both of them, taking a big spoonful for herself.

With her free hand, Brooke runs her hands through Peyton's hair lazily, letting her nails run along the blonde's scalp. There are a lot of things that Brooke should say to her. That she knew this was going to happen and it's all her fault. It's the truth and the harsh reality that needs to be said aloud but she can't do it. Because she is Brooke Penelope Davis, best friend to Peyton Elizabeth Sawyer (no longer soon to be Scott). So instead, she just keeps telling her that it'll get better in time and that all the hurt will fade away. It's a lie though. Because when Lucas Scott breaks up with you, it's always there.

* * *

It's a few hours later when Brooke reappears in the living room. Sam still sits in the same spot as earlier only now she's slumped slightly. "Is she asleep?" Brooke slumps down next to her daughter and nods, both hands coming up to rest on her face.

"Please never let a boy break your heart. This is too much work." Sam lets out a snort and Brooke raises her head and raises an eyebrow.

"I will not act like that when a boy breaks up with me," she informs, pointing the remote in the direction of her old bedroom.

Brooke laughs lightly before yawning. "You say that now. You have a year and a half left of high school and your whole life ahead of you. You'll act just like that at some point." Sam shakes her head and Brooke just laughs again.

"So what exactly happened between the two blondes?" The younger girl readjusts her legs and preps herself for the long story that she's sure is about to follow.

Brooke sighs, eyes moving around the room, observing little things as she tries to collect her thoughts. She stops after a minute or two and looks back at Sam's make up free face. She makes a small mental note to tell her she looks gorgeous like that later. "It really isn't my place to tell you. A lot happened."

Her teen lets out an aggravated sigh and throws her hands up in the air. "Brooke, if this whole fostering thing is going to work out, you're gonna have to tell me the important stuff that happens with your dysfunctional family!"

"So you're saying that you'll leave if you don't find out what happened," Brooke laughs and Sam nods her head. "Fine. But I'm not going into detail…"

* * *

_Peyton shrugs and then just shakes her head. "I don't know what I'm saying. Like I said this is just coming as such a shock. I mean hell, I thought I was gonna have cancer, not a baby."_

"_And that would've been better?" Brooke asks, bewildered by the lanky girl in front of her. Peyton sits back down in the chair she occupied earlier and looks down._

"_No I don't think it would have been better, I was just more prepared for that."_

_Brooke lets out a breath and then places a hand on Peyton's shoulder. She looks at her friend wearily and then sighs, her hand dropping back down to her lap. "I'm just having trouble with you having trouble accepting it… but maybe that's just because of everything I've been through," she says tiredly, running a hand through her short hair. It's quiet between them for a while and just as Brooke's about to get ready to leave, Peyton speaks up._

"_We're best friends right Brooke?" She looks over at Peyton and nods._

"_Of course we are."_

_Peyton lets out a deep breath and then squeezes her eye_s _shut. "I don't think I want this baby." _

Brooke sits up in her bed, sun shinning brightly on her face. She grimaces and reluctantly climbs out of bed, trying to shake off the dream she had. She throws on her robe and walks down the stairs into the kitchen. Sam stands behind the counter, busy popping bagels into the toaster. "Has she gotten out of bed?" Brooke asks and Sam shakes her head.

"You know, the more I've been thinking, the more I can't believe what you told me." Brooke shrugs, muttering that it is what it is before grabbing the cream cheese out from the fridge. Sam starts to make a joke about what Peyton were to look like pregnant when Brooke hears bare footsteps on the floor. She quickly throws her bagel at Sam's head in an effort to shut her up as Peyton becomes visible in the morning light.

"Dude what the hell? That's a waste of food and could be considered child abuse," Sam says before looking up. "Oh. Hey Peyton." The blonde nods and sits down at the counter. "You uh, want a bagel?" Brooke slides next to Sam and smiles, new bagel freshly cream cheesed with two bacon slices showcased to her best friend on a blue plate.

She shakes her head and then puts her head down, long hair acting as a curtain from the world. "You're gonna have to eat something. You're too skinny as it is."

"I don't care," Peyton responds emo-ly and Sam lets out a groan.

"Don't be so dramatic."

Peyton's head shoots up and a death glare is visible despite her puffy red eyes. "Look, I don't need some homeless shop lifting teenager butting in on my problems!"

"Oh no," Brooke whispers, placing down the plate on to the counter quickly.

"Excuse me! Last time I checked I was in a hell of a better place than you are!" Sam yells and Brooke knows that this isn't going to end well. "And you're whole problem is YOUR FAULT!"

"Sam, please, stop," Brooke tries to reason, putting her hand on Sam's arm in an effort to hold her back.

"No. I'm sorry Brooke, I know I promised not to say anything but this is ridiculous." She moves so that now she's addressing Peyton who stands up. "You knew that Lucas was going to break up with you for what you did! He TOLD YOU THAT!"

"You told her?" Peyton exclaims, locking eyes with Brooke who just stands there motionless. "That was a _private_ thing Brooke! I can't believe you!"

"No, you have no right to yell at her! She took you in when you moved out of Lucas's house because he couldn't look at you anymore! This is all your fault! So stop moping around like you had no part in this!" It's dead quiet now, Brooke looking wearily in between both girls.

"_You don't want it?" Brooke asks in disbelief, studying her best friend's face in an attempt to find some indication that she's joking. However, she can't find one._

"_No…"_

"_Are you going to…" she trails off and Peyton shrugs. "Are you going to talk to Lucas about it?"_

"_Why should I? It's my body."_

_It comes out before she can even stop it. "You are so selfish! __**He**__ wants a family! Yet you're not even going to include him in any of this? Despite the fact that you are carrying his baby! I would give _anything_ to have a baby with Lucas! Yet here you are, throwing one away while I've been yearning for one for years!"_

"_You want my baby?" Lucas asks, stepping out from the hallway._

"_What?" Brooke retorts, turning around to look at the man that just entered the room. "No. I want _a _baby. I just can't believe that she would just, wait a second! I don't think you should be listening to this conversation!"_

_He looks from Brooke to his fiancé behind her and waits for answer. "What exactly is going on here?" He notices Brooke hang her head and begin to fiddle with her fingers as Peyton looks away. "Peyton?" She won't look at him. And that's when he knows that what he heard wasn't a lie or a joke._

Brooke sees the fire in both of the girls' eyes and silently thanks god that the counter separates them. She looks over at Peyton, more afraid of what kind of toll this could take on her rather than her teen. Her best friend's hands are in tight fists, knuckles white and her eyes are filled with tears. She just turns away, going back into the room that Brooke has given her. Slams the door shut and it's then that they can hear the sobs start once again.

Sam turns to Brooke and notices her mouth begin to open. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything and I overreacted. I'll tell her I'm sorry when she calms down."

Brooke shakes her head. "I don't care. I'm just… I'm gonna take a walk." She starts to walk towards the door but then stops. "I'm in my pajamas." She turns around to see Sam with a smirk on her face.

"That you are."

"I should probably change," Brooke mutters before walking upstairs, hearing Sam laugh behind her.

"You probably should."

* * *

Brooke can't remember the last time she walked around in Tree Hill. She normally drives most places and she has to admit it's a little refreshing to walk in the cool air. She kicks the small rock that she's been kicking down the sidewalk for a block and a half before sighing. It's been a long time since she's felt like this; like going home is so much worse than whatever could happen to her in the big bad world. She hasn't felt like this since high school and it's not exactly a welcome feeling. She turns and goes into a small store, figuring she better stock up on some ice cream.

She grabs a basket and makes her way to the frozen food section. She grabs a few Lean Cuisines as a way to counter act the five cartons of ice cream she's likely to get. She moves down the isle a little further and notices Lucas Scott on the other side of the separating freezer. "Luke?" They haven't talked since Peyton left his house. He'd been angry, as expected, but he'd been so angry with _everyone_.

_Peyton's not even helping. She doesn't care though. Her friend is sulking and Brooke supposes that the least she could do is just let Peyton mope in the car. Brooke grabs another box and heads out the door, passing Nathan who walks back in to grab another box. Lucas isn't helping either. He's just sitting at the dinning room table drinking a beer and scowling at the wall. "Ridiculous," Nathan mutters as they pass and Brooke can't help but giggle a little. She shoves another box into the back of her car and shuts the lid. Her car's full and so is Nathan's meaning they're going to have to pack everything else into Peyton's car._

_Again, Nathan and Brooke meet up halfway, standing in the middle of the cement path up to Luca's yellow house. "How much more stuff does she have," Nathan whines and Brooke shrugs, counting on her fingers the stuff they already have._

"_I think a few things out of the kitchen, and then four bins of records," she says finally, nodding her head for extra emphasis. She notices Nathan check his watching before nodding his head as well. "You got somewhere to be Scott?"_

"_I got to pick Jamie up in fifteen minutes. You think we can get everything unpacked in that amount of time?"_

"_No. Look, you go get him and then head back over to my place. We can shove the boxes in Jamie's seat into Peyton's car and then unload everything with Jamie's help," Brooke says with a small clap and Nathan smiles._

"_Sounds like a plan." They move the two boxes from the backseat of Nathan's car and shove the others over in order to make sure Jamie has enough room. Then they throw the boxes into Peyton's car, high five, and go their separate ways. Nathan takes off and Brooke walks back into the house. She moves into the kitchen, empty box in hand and passes by Lucas. She frowns slightly at the sight of him but then turns away. She agrees with him on this whole thing. Peyton shouldn't have done what she did, not without at least talking to him about it._

_But it's too late to dwell on that now. What's done it done._

"_How could you let her do it?" Lucas asks quietly from his seat. Brooke looks back at him and raises an eyebrow._

"_Excuse me?"_

"_You're her best friend. She listens to you… How could you go with her and let her do that? You knew how I feel about it and you just… you stood back and watched." He sounds so hurt and angry and she has no doubt that they couple of beers he's put away in the time she's been here is factoring into it. He doesn't know the half of it though. She can't tell him because of the girl code that she still holds dear. _

"_Lucas, there are things that I can't explain. But you know I do not agree with her decision. And I was not about to let her go through something that big alone. I know you can't see it now, but you'll-"_

"_No, Brooke, I don't think I'll see why she did this or why you let her do this. Because silly me, I can't seem to get over the fact that I was going to have a child and now, because of that _bitch_, I'm not!" He's standing up now, words being spit out with such ferocity that she holds on to the plate in her hand a little tighter. He's scaring her a little bit and she suddenly wishes that Nathan hadn't left._

_He walks up to her and takes the other side of the plate in his hand, pulling it from her grasp roughly. "She's not taking this one." Brooke nods and then turns back to the other dishes she's been instructed to grab. Lucas shakes his head and pushes her out of the way; not rough but with enough force to get her to move. "Just go get the rest of her stuff. I'll get her dishes." Brooke nods and leaves the kitchen, slinking past Lucas' form._

_When everything else is done, Lucas meets her in the front doorway. "Is this all of it?" He nods and hands her the box. "Look, I know this is hard for you and I really don't know what to say, but I am sorry Luke." He doesn't respond verbally, just shakes his head and shuts the door in her face._

He looks up at her and she's thankful that he looks a lot healthier than the last time. He doesn't have the bags underneath his eyes, doesn't seem to smell like beer, and his hair actually looks combed. "Hello Brooke." He sounds cold and stand off ish and she hates it. He stands up straight, three frozen mini pizzas in his hands. Even though he looks a lot better, he still looks completely tired. She doesn't know what to say, considering it's already awkward between them. They stand in front of each other, separated by frozen food and just stare at each other.

She looks down for a moment, pushing a few strands of hair behind her ear. "How, um, have you been?" He stares back at her before looking down and tossing the small pizzas into his cart. He doesn't answer her, not really, just mumbles something that she doesn't quite catch and instead of asking him to repeat it, she just accepts it. The way he gave his response is answer enough and she knows that he hasn't been doing good considering all the beer that accompanies the mini pizzas in his cart. She really wants to say something more but she knows she won't get anywhere. He'll just mutter more half-ass responses and it won't change anything. So she just nods and keeps on moving.

* * *

It's quiet when she gets home. Sam's watching tv on the couch, the only noise coming from the box. There's no muted sobs, no crying, no nothing coming from Peyton's room and it's worrying the crap out of her. "She left about an hour ago," Sam says suddenly, glancing back at Brooke briefly.

The older girl throws her hands up in the air, completely giving up on the whole situation. She's so tired of dealing with all this crap. She collapses down on the couch, narrowly missing Sam's feet. She rubs her temples and mutters that she has no idea what to do. "You don't have to do anything," Sam responds, picking up the other end of the blanket and laying it over Brooke's legs. "She made her bed, now she has to lie in it."

Brooke sighs and closes her eyes. Damn her need to always make sure Peyton's okay. She just wants to wash her hands of both of those damn blondes but she can't. Quickly she gets up and takes the phone off the base. She punches in Peyton's number and waits for her to pick up. Brooke taps her foot nervously and waits and waits and waits. She gets Peyton's sarcastic voicemail greeting and then she hangs up. "Did she take her car?" she asks Sam, who nods in response. Looks like Peyton won't be back for a while.

Brooke dials another number and is quickly greeted by the sound of Larry Sawyer's voice. "Hey Papa Sawyer," Brooke replies brightly. She can tell that the older man is smiling and she realizes how much she misses her surrogate father. They chat for only a few seconds before she brings up his MIA daughter. She explains the argument between their daughters and that now Peyton and her car are gone. She asks him to keep and eye out for her and to let her know if Peyton does drive out to his house in Charlotte.

"I will Brooke. Thanks for letting me know." Brooke sighs out again. This is going to be a long day.

* * *

Brooke sits in her car across the street from Lucas' house, wondering if she should go in. She shakes her head because she knows that even if she were to go and give him the leftovers from dinner, that it won't change how he feels. He's still going to be angry, he's still going to be drunk, and his life is still going to be ruined.

Yet despite all those negative thoughts running through her head, she still pulls the key out of the ignition, grabs the leftovers, and gets out.

She knocks on the door lightly 3 times and then waits. No answer. She wait's a minute longer before knocking two more times. No answer once more. She tries the knob and, not surprisingly, it's unlocked. She looks around the house, pizza boxes and beer bottles scattered around the room. ESPN plays on the TV and some football team scores a touchdown. She glances over at the couch, thinking Lucas would be asleep, or passed out, over there. But instead, she finds wrinkled blankets. "What are you doing here?" She screams, a natural reflex, and brings her bag of leftover up over her face, because what's a better shield than Chinese food?

"Christ Lucas! Not only do you sneak up but you look like a crazy man too," she says with her hand on her heart. Her heartbeat is ringing in her ears and she tries to calm down. "I figured that you had been living off of pizza since Pey-… she who won't be named, moved out, so I brought you over some of our leftovers." He nods and walks up to her, taking the bag from her sweating hands.

She lets out a breath when he moves over to the couch, sitting down on top of the wrinkled blanket. She looks around the messy house; it's disgusting and she's just itching to clean it up. She looks back over at him, watching as he searches for the chow mein. "It's on the very bottom," she tells him.

"Thanks," he mutters, taking the chopsticks out of their paper container. He eats like an animal and she wonders if he's even eating the pizza he gets. She's still standing in front of the door awkwardly. Her hands are clasped together in front of her, her purse held close as if she were downtown at night and Lucas was about to mug her. "Why are you here?"

She blinks and looks over at the disheveled boy. "Excuse me?"

"Why are you here? Shouldn't you be off helping Peyton?" His words are cold and he sounds nothing like the boy she used to know. She shrugs in response, not sure at all why she's there. She just knows that she needs to do something. She needs to fix this.

"You can't fix this," he says as if he was still able to know exactly what she was thinking. "You can't change what happened. It's all… ruined. You can not fix this."

Her stance relaxes and she walks over to him, tossing her purse on to the closest chair. It creates a landslide effect, the shaky pile of pizza boxes falling down like jenga until everything hits the floor. She moves the food he's been inhaling and then sits directly in front of him. "I may not be able to fix everything that's happened," she begins, pushing his messy hair back. She doesn't think she can look at him, not in the eyes, not yet. So she busies herself by touching him, trying to straighten him up so he looks like the Lucas she used to know. She brushes a few crumbs off his shirt and then wipes away a bit of soy sauce from the edge of his mouth with her thumb. Finally, she looks into his ice blue eyes and smiles sadly. "But I can fix _you_."

His eyebrows rise in surprise slightly and he unlocks his jaw. She pats his cheek and then gets up. Her heels clack on the hard wood floors and he watches her curiously as she walks into his kitchen. She enters the room with a black garbage bag and starts picking up all the trash littered throughout the room. She stops briefly and brings her hair up into a ponytail before going back to work. He stares at her as she moves and he doesn't know what to say.

He opens his mouth to begin a sentence that he's hoping will magically come from thin air. But nothing comes, so he just sits there silently. She moves past him, dropping the bag in order to stack up the numerous pizza boxes that are too big to shove into the black bag. She glances over at him and then stops moving all together. "Keep eating. Don't let me bother you." Then, as quickly as she stopped, she starts back up.

* * *

She collapses down on the chair, more tired than she thought she'd be. The house was now perfectly clean; floors mopped and vacuumed, trash thrown out, and the dishes washed. She sent Lucas off to shower a few minutes ago, considering he smelled like a mixture of ass and booze. She grabs her phone out of her purse and notices a voicemail from Sam.

"Hey, so I'm going to assume that you're spending the night over there since you told me you were gonna drop off food four hours ago. Don't do anything you would've done in high school! Love ya, bye."

Brooke rolls her eyes then deletes the voicemail. That girl of hers… She glances over at the clock and notices that it's already 11:30. She really should be getting home. Tomorrow's Monday and that means another day of waking up to make Sam breakfast and take her to school. She gathers up her things, figuring it was best if she gets home.

"Oh crap," she mutters, noticing the wrinkled blanket on the couch. She folds it before making her way down the hall. The bathroom light's still on, so she just walks over to the bedroom she once lived in. "Hey Luke, I'm just going to-" She stops mid sentence as soon as she opens the bedroom door. They both stand frozen for a moment before she slams the door shut as quickly as she opened it.

* * *

She's sleeping great. She's warm and toasty under the blankets and is having a wonderful dream. But then she feels someone start shoving her and it's all ruined. "What the hell?" she mutters and opens her eyes. "Brooke? Why the hell are you waking me up?"

"I saw Lucas," she answers quickly and before she realizes it, Sam thumps her on her head.

"You woke me up to tell me _that_?"

"NAKED! I saw Lucas naked!" Sam shoots up and turns on the light next to her bed.

"I told you not to do anything sketchy!" Brooke hits Sam's shoulder and then climbs into bed next to her.

"I didn't! I was going to put a blanket away, I didn't know he was going to be naked," Brooke rambles, covering her red face with her hands.

"Why was he naked in the first place?"

"He was taking a shower," she explains and Sam gives her a look.

"You were putting a blanket away in his shower?" she asks with a raised brow and Brooke shoves her lightly.

"Look, I was going to leave so I folded up the blanket I forgot to put away. I thought he was still in the bathroom so I just walked into his bedroom, not knowing he was in there." Brooke lets out an exasperated breath and then looks over at Sam.

"So what'd you guys do?"

"I left?"

"You just left? You walk into his room, see his junk, and then leave? That's kinda rude," Sam says as she readjusts underneath the layers of blankets. She reaches over once more and turns off the lamp and nestles back against the sheets.

"Rude?"

"Yes. I have an explanation but it sounds a lot dirtier than I intend it to, so I'm just gonna leave it there. It's late and I need sleep. You can freak out tomorrow morning over breakfast 'kay?" Brooke nods and Sam kisses her cheek. "Goodnight. Don't wake me up again."

* * *

Peyton's back when she wakes up. She doesn't see her though. So Sam just watches her from her own doorway, silently as Peyton seems to pack up some of her belongings. She's grabbing clothes and records and pictures, throwing everything into a large suitcase. Sam moves closer, leaning against the doorframe of Peyton's room. "You're just leaving?"

Peyton's head swings back to look at her, pausing mid throw. "What're you doing up?" Sam shrugs before walking into the room and looking around.

"Are you at least going to leave a note?" Peyton stops packing once more to look at the girl who seemed to be a lot like her, at least when they first met. Peyton wonders for a second if she was this god damn annoying.

"Why do you care? You made it clear that you don't give a shit this morning," the blonde whispers and Sam shrugs again.

"I don't particularly care for you, at least not now. But Brooke cares and you just up and leaving is going to make her worry and feel bad," she explains, taking a stack of shirts out of Peyton's drawer and throwing it into another unfilled suitcase. "So if you're her friend like you say you are, you'll at least leave a note." Peyton nods and then Sam turns to go.

"Thank you Sam," Peyton mumbles and Sam stops just outside the room.

"It's funny that was Brooke's 'best friend', you weren't even going to leave a note."

* * *

Sam's asleep when she wakes up. Brooke slowly gets out of bed, trying not to make any movements that could wake up the slumbering girl. She walks into the kitchen and pours herself a cup of coffee before looking into the fridge. "I think I feel like egg," she says to herself, grabbing the carton out of the fridge. She's at the counter when she sees it. Her name written in Peyton's rushed handwriting on the front of a cream-colored envelope. She raises an eyebrow as she picks up the letter. The ink's still fairly fresh which means that at some point in the night, Goldilocks came home.

Brooke goes into Peyton's room, noticing that a little less than half of her stuff is gone. Her finger slides under the flap and pulls out the lined paper addressed to her.

_Brooke,_

_I'm going to go spend some time with my dad then maybe head to California for a while. I need time to re-evaluate what I'm doing with my life. Thank you for everything._

_Peyton_

It sounds so impersonal, not like a letter should sound between best friends. No pleasantries, just a simple note to make sure she doesn't worry. And so Brooke sighs, tossing the note in the trash on her way out.

* * *

He's on her doorstep the next day. "Um, hey." She looks at him blankly, eyes a little wide, and she thinks she might be turning red. 'What the hell,' she wonders to herself. This kind of stuff never used to embarrass her; she's seen lots of guys naked before, she's seen Lucas naked before, this shouldn't be so awkward. But it is and she knows it's because he was just engaged to her "best friend" and that it's been so long. They aren't close anymore and remembering times when they were just hurts even more.

"Hi," she responds, glancing back at Jamie on the couch. "I'm really sorry about last night… I thought you were still in the bathroom."

"It's okay… besides it's not like it's nothing you haven't seen before," he mutters with his head down. "I just wanted to thank you for everything. I know you really only cleaned up, but it helped."

She smiles and nods. "It was no biggy."

"Uncle Luke!" Jamie pops out of nowhere and hugs his godfather's legs, "I haven't seen you in forever! Can you stay and watch movies with us? Please? Please, please, please?"

Lucas laughs for the first time in weeks because it's become even more evident that Jamie some how inherited Brooke's ramble. "I don't know buddy… this is your time with Aunt Brooke."

"You should stay," Brooke says suddenly, looking up from Jamie to Lucas. "You need to start socializing again. Especially with your family."

* * *

High school seems so long ago. The days where she used to wear that blue cheerleading skirt and her infamous leopard bra. She flips the page of the scrapbook and smiles at the memories that come flooding back. "Do you ever wish you could go back?" She stays silent for a moment or two before answering.

"Sometimes it seems like it would be easier, other times it seems like it would be ten times harder." She turns another page and smiles when she reaches her junior year. Looks at the photos from basketball games, parties, dances, and just random times.

"When did you take that one?" Sam asks and Brooke smiles.

"It was after a game against Bear Creek. It was maybe the last week of November and we were at Tim's house. Peyton looks pissed off because naturally, Nathan was being an ass. I think that time it was for an ass grab, but who knows it happened so many times," Brooke explains and Sam points to the boy she has her arm around. "That was my flavor of the night."

Sam sits down on the arm of the chair, shifting her weight so she doesn't fall off. "You weren't really that bad were you?"

Brooke shrugs. "For the first couple years, yeah, I was. I didn't know how to function if I didn't act like that. I was raised to think that feelings didn't exist." She looks back down at the scrapbook again, sighing before turning the page. "This one was after Winter Formal, which is why we're dressed up. I just found out that my 'boyfriend' was a douche, so me and Luke hung out at IHOP till like, 6:30 in the morning." There is a few more pictures form that night; like the group picture they took (minus Haley of course). The others though are all of her and Luke at the IHOP.

"You guys look really happy," Sam comments and Brooke nods.

"That's because we were complete dorks with each other. I mean look, we took a picture of our smiley face pancakes with Mr. Salt and Mrs. Pepper." Sam scrunches her eyebrows together in confusion but ultimately just lets it go. "But despite everything, it ended up being a really great night." It really had been too. They just hung out and talked and laughed. It was perfect.

"Do you miss being able to talk to him like you used to?"

Brooke doesn't respond, just closes the scrapbook. "You should get to bed."

* * *

Sam wants something… she's sitting at the table with breakfast already on the plates. Orange juice and coffee fill the cups and the newspaper is placed directly next to them. "Good morning," she says sweetly and Brooke crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow in the process.

"What do you want?" Brooke asks, sitting down at the seat designated for her. There's a wonderful spread; pancakes, bacon, and eggs. She must want something really bad.

"Can't I just do something nice for you?"

"Nope. Now what do you want?" Sam sighs and then takes a drink of her juice.

"I want you to tell me about you and Lucas," she responds and Brooke just looks at her wearily. "I started reading his first book and I don't quite get it."

"What don't you understand?"

"How you two can be happily dating one minute, then broken up the next."

Brooke shakes her head. "People change, shit happens. There's no use to bring it up now."

"But you guys seemed like such a great couple. I mean 82 letters? That's like hardcore love right there," Sam says, taking a bite of her bacon.

"We were teenagers and it doesn't matter anymore," Brooke responds, head down, voice raspy and low. She uses her fork and pushes her eggs around a little, realizing that she's not that hungry. "And do not roll your eyes. Just because I'm not looking at you doesn't mean I don't know you're doing it."

"It doesn't matter anymore? If it didn't you'd have no problem talking about it nor would you have gone over to 'save' his ass the other day."

"We're friends; friends help each other," Brooke retorts and Sam shakes her head.

"Please, you two have this whole Ross and Rachel thing going on."

Brooke finally looks up with a blank face, putting her fork and knife down. She doesn't want to think about this; she's spent too many years thinking about Lucas and her and what could have been. She's done thinking about it because it just leads to regret. And Brooke Davis regrets _nothing_. "We're not talking about this. Now eat your breakfast."

* * *

It's been a few weeks and he's back again. He's been coming over almost every day and he asks her this time if he's annoying her. "I know that I'm coming over a lot so just tell me when you need your space." She smiles and shakes her head, telling him that she enjoys the company.

"You know how I hate big empty houses," she adds and for a second he flashes back to her old house, with the blue shutters and red door. "So what do you want to do today?"

Normally they just hang out at her house and watch movies but Brooke thought that he needed to get out every once in a while, especially since he'd turned into a bit of a hermit since Peyton left. Overall though, they just had nice afternoons with one another. They don't bring up any issues because their time together is supposed to be fun and happy.

Naturally, Sam poked fun at her for spending so much "friendly" time with him, but Brooke usually just brushed it off. "You liiiiike him, you just don't want to admit it," she teases and Brooke just rolls her eyes. Of course, Sam retaliates differently each day, today's line being, "I bet you're happy you walked in on him that day."

Brooke had to turn away quickly to cover up her own guilt.

"I was thinking we could just stay in. I brought a few movies," he responds and she nods as she walks into the kitchen.

"Go ahead and put it on. I'll grab the food." He does as he's told, popping in The Black Cauldron into the DVD player. By the time the rating for the first trailer pops up, she's handing him his plate.

"Sweet you made tator tots," he exclaims like a child and immediately pops two into his mouth. She smiles at his excitement and then takes a bite of her chicken patty as she turns her attention back to the screen.

"We're such little kids," she laughs when she notices that they're watching a Disney movie.

"Hey, we used to do this in high school."

She laughs once more and shakes her head. "We were kids back then. Granted a little old to be watching Disney movies, but overall more acceptable than 23 year olds."

He shrugs his shoulders, mumbling that you're never too old for Disney before he goes back to the food on his plate. The phone rings a little while later and the girl beside him pouts. "This is my favorite part."

He gets up instead, grabbing the phone before it can ring again. "Hello?" It's silent on the other end, even once he repeats himself. He's just about to hang up when he hears her. "Lucas?" He tightens the phone in his grip, jaw locking in anger. "Why are you at Brooke's? I called Brooke's number right?" Now it's his turn to stay quiet. Between the two of them, it's dead silent until she clears her throat. "Look Luke, I know it's too late for this but I'm so so-" He doesn't hear the end of her sentence. He just hurls the phone across the room, the electronic hitting the granite counter.

Even though she'd been watching him out of the corner of her eye, she didn't expect that. She jumped in her seat, closing her eyes out of fear and habit. "Lucas?" He's not responding to her, just shaking, jaw still locked and fists still clenched. She gets up wearily and walks over to him. "Luke? What's wrong?" His name sounds so different coming from her. It's soft, sweet, raspy, and caring. Not how Peyton sounded. Peyton sounded so forced and unattached. Brooke touches his arm and he flinches. He's just so angry again and he wants to scream and throw a fit. But he can't do that, not in front of Brooke.

"Don't push me away," she instructs as she moves in front of him, placing her hands on his arms. "Calm down okay. Three deep breaths." He shakes his head and walks away from her. She frowns at his actions and watches him pace for a few minutes before she turns around to pick up her dismembered phone.

"I can't believe she had the balls to apologize to me! After all this time, she calls and says that to me? She didn't even mean it! She was probably just thrown off because I picked up the phone!" He's full on yelling now as he continues to spit out obscenities about her once best friend. She puts back together her phone, nodding her head every once in a while just to let him know she's listening. She turns to him, noticing he's gotten closer to her and watches as he falls apart in front of her. "She **killed** my child and didn't even fucking consult me! She just thought about herself and fucked me over! She had the fucking nerve to look me straight in the eyes and tell me she was aborting _her_ baby!"

His vision is going blurry. Tears of anger and sadness are welling up in his eyes and his ears are ringing. He's so angry and so god damn hurt that he's losing control. Before he can even process what he's doing, he balls up his fist until his knuckles turn white and goes to punch whatever's in front of him.

He hears her gasp for just a second until he feels trembling lips against his, his fist hitting nothing but air. Everything about his tense body relaxes; tears start to fall down his face, shoulders and hands untwine, and his legs go a little numb. He falls into her soft kisses and Brooke struggles to keep them standing before they both tumble to the ground. It's not until she finally breaks away from him that he hears her sobs. "Don't you ever fucking do that again," she cries, wiping away his fallen tears before drying her own cheeks. "_**Ever**_."

"I'm so sorry Brooke," he mumbles, repeating it even though she nods. "I didn't mean to… I just… I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," she tells him, finding his hand and lacing his fingers with his. "It's okay."

* * *

"You look like shit," Sam tells her when she walks into the house. Brooke sits on the couch, eyes puffy and hair uncombed. "What happened?"

"Lucas almost hit me." Her words are low and even and she doesn't look at Sam when she says them.

Sam's backpack drops to the floor with a loud thud that echoes in the large house. "I'll kill him." Brooke shakes her head and tells her to come sit down. "No, Brooke that's bullshit!"

"He didn't mean to. Peyton called and just fucked everything up." She sounds so sad and it worries Sam. "He didn't mean it."

Despite her best judgment, Sam sits down in front of Brooke, studying her appearance. Being in and out of foster homes her whole life, she's picked up on a few things. Like the fact that Brooke's been crying for at least two hours due to the amount of redness in her eyes and how puffy they are. Brooke doesn't know how to react to anything or what to do because everything around her is so messy, including Brooke herself. That, and the fact that Brooke never emits more words than needed; it's always simple her responses, simple and lost. "What happened?" She needs to know details so she can figure out how she can help.

Brooke shrugs. "Peyton called, he lost it. He didn't know what he was doing."

"Did it remind you of…" Sam trails off unsure if she should bring it up. She's been through a rough day as it is. But Brooke knows exactly what she's alluding to because she simply nods. The brunette sighs, pushing a few wayward strands of hair behind her ear.

It's silent for awhile before Sam notices the tears welling back up in Brooke's eyes. "It just scared me so much more than before."

"Because of what happened last time?"

Brooke shakes her head. "No, because it was Lucas." She's used to people hurting her in any form. Her parents never gave a shit, everyone always ends up fucking her over. Why should she have ever expected anything more from Lucas? After all, he was the one boy who let her down the most.

* * *

Sam hasn't been letting him come in. Each day he wonders how much school she's missing in order to shield Brooke, but by the time he leaves he forgets. Because by the time he leaves, he feels worse than he did before. He never sees her anymore, except for today. She'd been at the counter in he kitchen and locked up when Sam opened the door. She looked sad and it killed him.

Here she was, helping him get through everything, and then he almost takes out all his anger on her? What was wrong with him? He sighs and then shoves his hands into his pockets. He's not sure he can fix this.

Sam watches through the window as he walks away. Her arms remained crossed underneath her chest and she rolls her eyes. "Jerk," she mutters under her breath.

"Sam, you're making a big deal out of nothing," Brooke says quietly from the dinning room table.

"Him trying to hit you _is_ a big deal."

"You don't know what happened," Brooke responds as Sam takes a bite of the food on her plate.

"Because you won't open up about it. So until you can, I'm treating this as a 'red alert' situation." Her voice is serious and Brooke frowns. She should be the one taking care of Sam, not the other way around. Brooke opens her mouth to speak, to tell Sam that what happened was Lucas just broke down and she fixed the situation at hand the only way she knew how. But for some reason it seems like too much; it's too personal and she doesn't think anyone but her and Lucas will understand. So she doesn't say anything, just continues eating.

* * *

She sends Sam to school for a full day. Lately the teen has been missing her electives and lunch, only going to school for her last three periods. But Brooke finally put back on her parenting boots and put her foot down. "You're going for a full day. I'm going to be fine, your grades won't be though."

And now she sits on her couch, waiting for Lucas to come over at his usual time. He's five minutes late, then ten minutes, then twenty. She drums her fingers on the arm of the couch, glancing at the clock every so often. Finally, when an hour has been reached, she picks up the phone and dials his number before she can back out. He answers but doesn't say anything. "You need to come over." He hangs up and within a minute he rings her doorbell.

"I figured I wouldn't annoy you anymore," he explains once she lets him in.

"So looking like a stalker was your alternative," she jokes, thought there is barely any humor in her voice. "You haven't been annoying me… we need to talk though."

He nods, remaining at his spot in front of the door even though she walks away to sit on the stairs. "Are you okay?" He furrows his brow and looks at her confused. He should be the one asking her that. "After everything that has happened these past two months, are _you_ okay?"

He shakes his head, looking down at her hardwood floors. "I feel like a big monstrous pile of shit. Partly because of Peyton. Partly because of myself." He looks up at her and the amount of sympathy that's pouring out of her eyes makes him feel guilty. "Don't look at me like that."

"Why?"

"Because I'm at fault. I did something wrong to you, you shouldn't feel bad for me."

She shakes her head, rising from her spot on the stairs. Her bare feet hit the floor lightly until they stop in front of him. She tilts his head up so that she can look at his face. "You didn't do anything to me. You just scared me, that's all. And that's no reason for me to cast you aside." She takes his hands in hers, using her thumb to softly rub his hand. "Don't feel bad about what happened here…"

"I would never intentionally hit or hurt you in any way Brooke… Never…" She lets out a shaky breath and then nods. "My life's just a mess and I don't know how to fix anything about it."

"Are you still mad at Peyton?" she asks and he nods. "At least you didn't marry her… you found out things that you clearly disagreed on before you bound yourself to her." He opens his mouth to object, because despite all that, he lost a child, but she cuts him off. "It's always going to hurt… what she did… That's never going to go away. Once you let the anger go, you'll get better… I promise." She leans her forehead against his and smiles. "Can you do that?" He nods and then sighs.

"I still really hate her," he responds and she agrees.

"It's all going to be okay though Luke," she whispers softly and he looks into her hazel eyes. He loves her eyes…

"Are we okay now?" he asks and she nods against his head.

"We were never not okay." She wants to kiss him again. Unlike before when she did it only to help save them both, this time she craves to do it. But it's not the right time; it's too soon after everything and it would just make his already messed up life even more confusing. So she begins to pull away, because if she stays this close, she won't be able to stop herself. However, when she lets go of his hands, they hold on to her hips tightly. She looks up at him, noticing that his breathings gotten heavier. His arms wrap around her waist, her eyes never leaving his. "I really want to kiss you."

She nods, eyes darting to his lips before going back to his blue eyes. She licks her lips without really thinking and unconsciously moves even closer so that her body is flush against his. He leans his head down, hesitant and weary. "I don't know if this is a good idea," she says, head moving back just a little, enough so that she can look in his eyes clearly. Her hands lay on his arms and she can't help but lean further into him. She rests her head on his shoulder and that's when she realizes that they're both shaking. He brings his lips to her neck, her shirt moving slightly to reveal more pale skin. He brings her soft skin between his teeth and she squeezes his arms. He pulls and sucks her skin between his teeth before she pushes him away; close enough to feel his breath but far enough so that she can see his face.

She takes his face into her hands, feeling the structure of his face, the softness of his lips, the scratchy feeling of his stubble. She leans her forehead against his once again. She stares into his blue eyes and she wants to stop. This makes no sense at all. They shouldn't be doing this.

She locks with his lips anyway, relishing in their warmth. He doesn't reciprocate, still weary of all of this himself. She kisses him softly yet roughly, as if she's trying to pour herself into him. When he does start kissing her back, his hands move to her shirt, fingers fumbling to undo the round slippery buttons. Her hands move to the neck of his shirt, pulling him as she walks backwards. She hits her bedroom door just as her shirt opens up. He pulls away from her, looking down at her white skin entrapped by green silk. He stares, hands itching to touch her, wanting to feel her _so bad_ that he thinks that he might be going crazy.

She turns the doorknob next to her and walks into the room, turning away from him. She takes off her black shirt and then her silky bra so that now her upper body is completely exposed. He enters then, hands shaking as he reaches up and runs a finger down her spine, all the way down to the top of her jeans. She shivers at the unexpected touch and her newly exposed skin.

He wraps his arms around her body, hands coming to rest at her belt buckle. Her body is so warm and soft and so god damn beautiful. His fingertips move softly up her belly, tickling her just barely. When his hand reaches her breasts, he cups one in his hand, running his thumb over her nipple. She lets out a shaky breath and lets her head roll back against his chest. He leans down and leaves wet kisses along her neck and shoulder as her one of her hands moves to his other hand resting on her jeans. She squeezes his hand as he squeezes her breast before she pushes his hand out of the way. He looks down over her shoulder, watching as her hand unbuttons her pants and pulls down her zipper.

She turns his arms, his hands leaving her body only for a second before she leans against him again. Her hands snake up his shirt, nails dragging down his abs before he place his hands on her hips, pushing down the worn blue material. He hooks his thumbs inside the jeans, looping his fingers through the band of her underwear. He kisses his way down her body; leaving one on her lips, between her breasts, and numerous on her flat stomach. When he stands back up, he opens his mouth but Brooke puts a finger to his lips and shakes her head. She doesn't want to regret this and she's pretty sure she will if they start talking now.

So he closes his mouth and she steps out of her pants. She moves, sitting down on the edge of her bed, crossing her naked legs before she curls a finger, signally him to follow. When he stands in front of her, she pushed up his shirt as high as it can go without her getting up. He pulls it off, tossing it to the ground and then moves to take off his own pants. He unbuttons and unzips as Brooke crawls backwards on to the bed. She rests her weight on her elbows and watches as he slips out of his jeans, the rough dark fabric joining the rest of the clothes on the floor. He crawls on to the bed, kissing her bent knees before pushing them apart, slithering his way between them.

He towers over her, hot breath hitting her face and she has to close her eyes. She's missed this. She stopped pretending a long time ago that she was over him. She knows she's not. However, she doesn't admit it to anyone, including herself, that is hurts. That it hurt to watch him kiss other girls, hurt that she once wore his mother's ring, knowing that is wasn't meant to be there. She has so many things she needs to say to him. There are so many things that need to be cleared up because right now, nothing is making sense. Nothing has to do with emotional feelings; just a lust that has been pent up for years. And if the past has taught her anything, it's that ruining the sheets doesn't solve anything.

She should stop this before it gets out of hand.

She looks up at him, his lips hovering above her own. "I really want you," she whispers instead, raising her head closer to his. He leans down, pressing swollen lips against swollen lips. It feels so good and she's missed this so much. She's kissed plenty of guys since they broke up, but no lips ever felt as good, tasted as sweet, or created such a response inside her body. So she shut out all thoughts, and wraps a leg around his waist.

She falls on to her back when his hands begin to roam all over her body. He wants to touch every inch of her. Wants to find each mole that he used to know so well and find each new mark or scar and commit it to memory. Wants to feel her curves and warmth and softness. It feels so incredibly amazing just to see her like this again, that he worries for a moment that all of this is a dream. So his touches get more frantic, more forceful just to assure himself that she's there. He moves his lips to her collar bone, then to the valley between her breasts as his hand moves between her legs. Her hips buck when she feels his fingers touch her _there_ and he smiles against her body. He feels her wetness and it's all the permission he needs to delve into her.

* * *

He loves watching her sleep. Watching her just be so at peace makes him feel like this big jumbled up world isn't as shitty as it can be. He watches how her chest falls and rises at a slow and steady pace. The sheet covers her body half hazardly and when he notices her shiver slightly, he reaches down to the foot of the bed, pulling the blanket that had be pushed down over the both of them. She rolls over then, eyes darting back and forth underneath her eyelids before her eyes flutter open.

"Hi," she whispers in her raspy voice, arm resting on his bare stomach. He nods in response to her and shifts slightly. He's unsure of what exactly is going on between them, and he figures she feels the same because after a few moment, she pulls away. She sighs and sits up, holding the blanket against her chest, pushing strands of hair behind her ears, fingers running over her earlobe, noticing her earring was gone. "What is all of this?"

She looks back at him, hair mainly tossed on one side, creating a shadow on the further side of her face. He shrugs, the best he can as he lays on his side, head propped up with his hand. "I don't know…" He pauses and places his hand on her bare back. He notices her eyes shut on contact and she moves so that he can't touch her.

"Sam's gonna be home soon," she tells him, and she gets out of bed, taking the sheet with her.

* * *

He walks in to the kitchen where she stands, slumped against the counter, a white cup of coffee in her slender hand. "We need to figure out what that was," he says and she shrugs, mumbling that there's not much to talk about; what they did is done and neither of them know what to do about it. He sighs and rubs his head, walking over next to her. He takes the cup from her hand, resulting in a scowl on her part, and takes a gulp before handing it back.

"I really shouldn't have slept with you… with everything that just happened, this just isn't helping anything," she tells him, rearranging her sheet to keep it from falling.

"I was completely aware of what was going on Brooke. I didn't exactly stop it." He takes her free hand into his and she tries to pull it away but he holds it there.

"You're confused."

He shakes his head and sighs. "Maybe I am. But I know that what we did wasn't confusing, at least not to me."

She rips her hand away from his grasp and stands up straight. "Wasn't confusing? We have no idea what _that_ means," she says almost angrily, pointing to the wall where her bedroom hides behind. "Three months ago you were engaged to my best friend and was going to have a baby with her."

"And as you said before it was obviously for the best that we aren't together now. We weren't heading the same place in our lives. And maybe I've figured out where I really want to be." He takes her hand into his once again and looks down at their intertwined fingers.

"You've got to be joking," she mumbles as she follows his gaze with her own eyes.

"It's almost easy Brooke." She looks at his face with disgust and then pushes him with her free hand.

"No, it's not _almost_ easy Lucas. It's practically impossible! Because you are still such a confused little boy you can't handle any sort of relationship," Brooke yells at him, tightening the sheet around her body. "And you just… you don't realize the consequences of your actions! You never look before you leap and you end up hurting _so_ many people! I will not be apart of that nor will I subject myself to that. Not again… I can't."

He looks down at the floor and he almost looks unfazed. "Do you realize what you've done? To Peyton, to Lindsey… to me?" He looks up and that's when he sees the tears in her eyes and hears the cracking in her voice. "I hate that I still fucking care and that I still hurt because of what you did to me and what I did to myself. I gave up so much for you and Peyton, and now it's all over and for what? Nothing…" She shakes her head and brings her hand up to rub her temple. "So please, just do me a favor and leave." She lets out a breath, her whole body exhaling. She needs to sleep.

He almost turns around. Almost does as she says and walks out her front door, going back home to pack up because she's absolutely right. His relationships never work out and maybe it is his fault. He screwed Brooke and Lindsey over for Peyton, ditched Peyton for Brooke. He's never made up his mind and he's stringed along girls in the process. But then he thinks better of it. "What would that prove if I walked away?"

"What?" she asks, confused as to why he still hasn't left.

"You're right Brooke. Relationships that I've had so far have in one way or another, sucked really bad. And that's due in part because I still haven't really had an adult relationship. Maybe I thought I did, but if that's true then I don't think we'd be having this conversation nor would I be here. But walking away isn't the answer. It's stupid and childish and won't fix anything. So I'm staying." He crosses his arms over his chest as Brooke stares at him, dumbfounded.

"Staying won't fix anything either," she says quietly after a few moments of silence.

"Only if we don't talk and it's clear that we do. So go get dressed. We need to fix everything."

She shakes her head. "We're beyond repair."

He half smiles and shakes his head as well. "As long as you think we can, we can fix us." She doesn't move, still unsure of everything that he's saying. "Come on, get going. I feel like it's gonna be a long night."

* * *

It's almost quiet when she gets home. The living room is empty but she can hear the faint sound of voices upstairs and it frightens her a bit. "Brooke?" She throws her bag down on the hard wood floors before realizing that she has a soda in there. She really hopes it doesn't explode on her library books. Brooke bitched her out last month for ruining her last checkouts.

Brooke's head pops out of the staircase and smiles. "I'm up on the roof. I made some sandwiches if you want." Sam nods, mumbling that she's starving as she climbs the stairs. Brooke's moving fast up the stairs and Sam shakes her head. She probably has a cake up there for them.

But that's when she sees it. Brooke turn around swiftly, big dimpled smile showcased on her face. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

"Shit," Sam curses loudly as she's greeted by the multitude of voices. She looks around to see her friends and adopted family all smiling back at her. Streamers and balloons decorate the roof, food and cake and presents everywhere. "This… this…" She's speechless. For the first time, she's actually speechless.

Brooke giggles and then goes down the few steps that Sam has yet to climb. She wraps her arms around the younger girl and whispers, "Happy birthday Sam," in her ear before leading her up to the roof. "Go enjoy your party."

"Brooke… this is way too much," Sam says, still taking in her surroundings.

"No it's not. Now go on. Every one has been waiting for you." Sam hugs her once more before walking off to go sneak up on Jamie who was currently eyeing her cake. It's not even a minute later when she feels arms wrap around her waist.

"She looks so happy Brooke." She nods against his chest and sighs. It's a beautiful day; the sun is shinning down on them and the ocean that can be seen from her house looks bluer than ever. Her daughter is happy and smiling and her family is surrounding her.

God, they have all come so far.

She turns around and throws her arms around his neck. "Thank you for helping me pull this off," she whispers, dropping a quick kiss on to his lips.

He shrugs, saying that it was no problem. "After all, you are my girlfriend now right?"

She smiles and nods. It's been three months and they're not fixed yet but they're working on it. All they can do is work on their relationship; they're always changing , there is always going to be things that they don't agree on but that's what any relationship is like. And as long as they're committed, it'll all work out.

It always does.

* * *

So, I was/am very nervous about this oneshot, just because i wasn't sure if it flowed well or made sense. Obviously, I started writing this BEFORE we found out anything about Peyton's pregnancy, so I hope it wasn't too confusing. Hope everyone enjoyed!


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